


Summer Rain

by LegolasLovely



Category: Young Hercules
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, Playing Hooky, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/pseuds/LegolasLovely
Summary: BF&GF Playing hooky< all you need to know. But also (lemme geek out for a sec) I like to think (Y/N) is the top cadet academically and she HATES Iolaus for his cocky and lazy demeanor UNTIL Fiducius asks her to tutor him. Then she falls head over sandals in love with this golden boy’s true heart because wouldn’t we all
Relationships: Iolaus/Reader
Kudos: 5





	Summer Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Fili Friday! Have some Iolaus LOVE.
> 
> A Note About the Poetry/References: The poem is called A Lover’s Sigh, written by Anacreon who lived in Ancient Greece (in Teos AKA across the Aegean Sea from Corinth) around 500 BC. ISN’T THAT COOL. Also, some of The Odyssey (translated to English, of course) is quoted here.

(Y/N) loved falling asleep to the symphony that came with the falling rain. Whether it be a downpour slapping against the soft grass or a sprinkling of misty drops landing on a roof of thatch, the lullaby was always welcomed. However, it was especially cherished after a day of endless drills and exams that left her with an exhausted mind and aching muscles to match. When she climbed into bed, her woes were forgotten and replaced with nature’s soft tune raining down and the scent of fresh earth sneaking through the cracked windows in the academy. (Y/N) loved every part of the rain.

Except training in it.

She woke the next morning with a start at the rumbling thunder that snapped to a crack right above the academy. Some of her classmates were already awake, watching the storm from the doorway and planning their route across the wide grounds to the dining hall’s entrance. She had rebraided her hair for the day by the time those cadets had mustered up the courage to skitter out from under the doorway and across the fields. She snorted as she pulled on her boots.

“Don’t laugh, (Y/N),” Hercules said from his bed above. “That’ll be us next.”

“Can’t you ask your dad to chill out with the thunder already? He’s been at it all night.”

Hercules noisily mocked her. “Yeah, sure, I’ll send a request right up. Anything for your convenience, (Y/N).”

“I appreciate the diligence,” she said. She chased Hercules to the door and pushed him outside into the drip. Cold droplets fell down the back of his neck and he shivered and cringed, dancing back into the shelter. He grabbed her shoulders but she slipped out of his grasp, giggling. “Not fast enough, Herc,” she said.

Jason stepped between them, acting as (Y/N)’s shield as Hercules shook his dripping hair. “Listen, the quicker we run to the dining hall, the quicker we can eat, okay? By the time we go to morning drills, we’ll be dry.”

“Just in time to get soaked again,” Iolaus said. As usual, he’d been the last to wake up. He ran a hand through his messy curls and placed the other discreetly on (Y/N)’s back for no one to notice but her. “You know they’ll make us train in the storm today.”

“It builds character,” he and Hercules said at the same time, both mocking Chieron perfectly. 

“I’m not intending on training anywhere on an empty stomach so are you all coming to breakfast with me or not?” Jason said.

“You’re grumpy,” Hercules mumbled.

(Y/N) laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “All right, all right. Herc, take the starving king to breakfast, I’ll meet you guys there,” she said, having to gather her scrolls and bag for classes. Probably a few towels as well.

She turned and dug her things out from under her bed, sighing to herself. 

“I thought you liked the rain?”

She leapt from her place in fright. “Gods, Iolaus, you scared me. I thought you went with the guys.” She set down her scrolls and watched the wet sheets fall through the doorway again. “I do like the rain, but not when I have to go out in it.”

Iolaus hummed, following her gaze. He didn’t notice her sneak behind him until she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“I’d much rather spend a day like today in… the hay loft? The barn is empty until after dinner is served anyway. No one will be up there, especially on a day like today.”

“Are you, (Y/N), stealer of library scrolls, actually suggesting we play hooky?” Iolaus asked.

Her head snapped up. “I do not steal scrolls!”

“Only the ones Fiducious doesn’t let you borrow,” he said with a poking finger.  
  
“You aren’t supposed to know about that.”

“Oh, (Y/N), you are forgetting about the life I led before I came to this charming academy. I know a lot of things I’m not supposed to know.”

She scoffed, but grabbed his hand and her bag. “Fine, then, Master Burglar, how do we get to the barn without being seen?”

He led her to the opposite exit of the small building. “Considering the barn is on the other side of the grounds _and_ we will have to pass the window of Chieron’s office _and_ his horses don’t exactly like me-”

“What did you do to the horses, Iolaus?”

“Not important- we just have to RUN!” 

He dragged her out into the rain, shushing her surprised squeal with smiling lips. Their sandals squeaked in the wet and squished in the mud as they ran past the well, jumped over the short wall, and skittered along the side of the main building of the academy. 

“Wait!” he cried out in a harsh whisper. “Wait here. That’s Chieron’s window.” 

Before he could formulate a plan, (Y/N) slipped from his clammy grasp and bent forward, crawling underneath the window. She called him to follow. “We’re almost there!”

With no roofs to slither under, Iolaus tore off his vest and it quickly became their umbrella for the second half of the journey through the wide field. As they neared the barn, (Y/N) was just as relieved as Iolaus to see the horses already inside. That meant they truly would be alone in the hay loft until someone came to feed the animals at night. The barn was all theirs. 

“Do you think anyone saw us?” (Y/N) asked after they’d slithered inside and closed the barn door. Iolaus held the ladder for her as she climbed up to the hay loft.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Everyone is in the dining hall at this hour.” He followed her up, sending nervous glances to the horses below. A shiver ran up his spine. Whether it was from the dark eyes staring up at him or the icy beads of rain still trickling down his bare skin, he wasn’t quite sure. 

He threw his sopping vest over a bale. “Well, I won’t be putting that back on any time soon,” he said with a wide mouthed wink.

(Y/N) shook her head at his never ending antics, but smiled at him all the same. “Good thing I brought something dry and warm for you, then.” Out of her bag came one of his own tunics he didn’t realize had been stolen. 

“You sneaky little cadet,” he said, putting it on. “You planned this.”

“Maybe.” She had pulled her braid apart and was squeezing her hair dry with one of the towels she’d brought. 

“Lucky for you, I too came prepared.” He slid the tunic over his head and it didn’t take long for drenched, golden curls along with a dimpled grin to pop out of the neck. Then he reached for his bag, rummaging around the small rips in the lining until he uncovered two loaves of fresh bread. He gave one to (Y/N) with a flourish and a bow, savoring her laugh. But as she leaned forward to take the treat from him, a stiff, crinkling chattered that was just loud enough to hear over the rain outside. He watched her sit quickly upright and hide her twitching lips behind the crust of bread. “What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“No. You-you _didn’t_.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said around the hunk of bread in her mouth.

“You brought a _scroll_? We are playing hooky and you brought homework! I knew this was too good to be true.”

She stood, pulling the small scroll out from under her shirt. She’d managed to pack everything else for the day when Iolaus wasn’t looking, but this was a last minute addition that didn’t quite make it into her bag. 

“It’s not homework,” she said. “It’s for pleasure.”

“That is no pleasure I’d like to be a part of!”

She laughed out loud at that and Iolaus only half enjoyed it. She skipped to his side, turned his stubborn face to her, and wrung out his curls into her towel. “Come on, Iolaus. With all our exams coming up, I never have time to read anymore. Especially not poetry because we haven’t covered any of it in our modern literature classes yet. Now I have the whole day free to-”

“To read poetry,” he grumbled.

Her soft touch through the towel traveled over his shoulders and down his chest, collecting the raindrops that still gathered in the hollows of his tanned skin. “I know you don’t like poetry much, but what if I promise to read you something I know you’ll enjoy?”

“Then you don’t know me very well.”

She took his chin in her fingers. “You are such a grump! Let me read for one hour and then we can do what you want.” She wriggled out of his grasp that consisted of roaming hands and squeezing fingers. “Within reason!” she said, snapping the towel at him.

A childish, roaring groan filled the barn as she sat on a bale of hay. She patted the spot next to her, beckoning him to sit. “Just trust me.” 

Heavy feet stomped across the loft until Iolaus sat on the floor beneath her, scooting around until he could lean back between her knees. He looked up at her, chin to the sky and blue eyes gleaming. “Tell me about this poem.”

“It comes from across the sea,” she said, unrolling the scroll by its pins. “Listen.”

_“The Phyrgian rock that braves the storm  
Was once a weeping matron’s form;  
And Procne, hapless, frantic maid,   
Is now a swallow in the shade.  
Oh that a mirror’s form were mine,   
To sparkle with that smile divine;  
And like my heart I then should be,  
Reflecting thee, and only thee!  
Or could I be the robe which holds  
That graceful form within its folds;  
Or t-”_

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. This is a _dirty_ poem?” He spun and took the scroll from her, turning so fast, his hair sprayed droplets over her and the parchment. He stared at the words, then turned to her. “You read dirty poetry?”

She laughed. “They’re not all like this.” She swiped his curls over his shoulder, running a fingertip around his ear and down his neck. “Read the rest of it.” Gentle hands turned his shoulders forward and she asked again. “Read to me, Iolaus.”

He coughed, unconsciously leaning toward her breath on his bare skin.

_“Or could I be the robe which holds  
That graceful form with-”_

She was kissing his neck. Warm, soft lips over his jaw, under his ear, down his neck to the bit of shoulder his tunic left open to her. The little clicking sound of her mouth against his skin sounded louder than any lightning crack Zues could send down to them. He curved into her hold.

“Keep reading,” she said.

“How am I supposed to concentrate with you… kissing me like that?”

“Does it feel good?” The tip of her nose traced over the sensitive skin that her lips left damp.

He could only hum his appreciation. Her hands rolled forward to the front of his tunic, wanting the deep rumble to sound again so she could feel it in her palms. 

“Keep reading or I will stop.”

He grumbled. “Her gifts were mixed with good and evil both.”

She breathed out a laugh, tightened her grip, and sunk her teeth into his skin. He lifted the scroll.

_“…Within its folds;  
Or, turned into a fountain, lave  
Thy beauties in my circling wave;  
Or, better still, the zone that lies  
Warm to thy breast, and feels its sighs!  
Or like those envious pearls that show  
So faintly round the neck of snow!  
Yes, I would be a happy gem,   
Like them to hang, to fade like them.  
What more would thy Anacreon be?  
Oh, anything that touches thee,  
Nay, sandals for those airy feet–  
Thus to be pressed by thee were sweet!”_

Iolaus rolled up the scroll and set it aside, turning in her arms to kneel between her legs so they were face to face. Her damp hair fell around her as if to frame the portrait of a goddess. He kissed her lips.

“Did I not say you would enjoy the poem?” she asked.

He kissed her cheek and ran his fingers through her hair. The sight of untied tresses was rare, and he took this chance to feel their softness and marvel at the delicate waves. “I would enjoy anything as long as I am with you.”

When he drew away from her cheek, he saw her eyes had closed from his tender touch. Half of him wished she’d open them for they were the brightest light there was on this dreary day. However, the more selfish half of him wanted them to stay closed. She’d never permit his staring if she saw the way he was watching her, taking her in. His finger curled over her forehead down to her chin to hold her face still. Even as her curious eyes opened to him, he gazed on.

“Never have I set my eyes upon such a beauty, in either man or woman. I look at you and I am bedazzled,” he said.

All breath left her. “Where did you learn that?”

“I said I would enjoy anything as long as we were together. Do you really think I’d ignore your passion for poetry and stories? That I’d leave you alone in it?”

She shook her head, left speechless by his words. 

Just as a log split open by a heavy ax, so seemed Iolaus’ armor of deceptive reputation: cracked and gaping, revealing a true, tender heart underneath. From its center radiated unmatched compassion and care that shone brightly enough to play the part of the sun on this murky morning. Her own thoughts cowered from his brilliance.

“No, I-just-”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

She kissed his lips, arm circling his shoulders to pull him close. His dimples caved in under her thumbs as she cradled his face, pouring her appreciation, astonishment, admiration- all of it into her kiss. 

“I love you too,” she whispered against his lips.

He dove into her again- lips, tongues, hands, fingers- and she keened, falling into his lap on the floor. 

“Iolaus.”

Over her own sigh of his name, she barely heard someone else’s voice. She drew away to listen, but Iolaus’ lips only fell down her cheek to her neck, serving as a further distraction.

“Do you hear that?”

He hummed against her skin.

Thunderous footsteps banged outside, squishing and spurting in the puddles of mud while the looping chains of the hitching posts crashed together, sending a harsh, bright clanging sound up to the loft of the barn.

“What is that?” (Y/N) asked.

“You know exactly what _that_ is,” Iolaus said, tugging her hips closer.

The slam against the barn door sent the large handle rattling and yanked Iolaus from his heated stupor. Surely the storm’s angry power couldn’t be the manifestation of a godly punishment for two students playing hooky, they thought. But that fear shifted as the warning voice outside eventually gave them a different, but no safer, solution. 

“I don’t think _(Y/N) and Iolaus_ would be in here, sir, _Fiducius_ , sir. I really don’t. But if you insist, I guess we’ll have to go _inside the barn_ and see!”

The pair in the loft shared a look. Eyebrow waggles and waving hands gave silent orders of “Tuck in your tunic” and “Tie back your hair,” while soggy clothes and bread were thrown into their bags. A wicked bale of hale sent Iolaus hurdling to the floor. Then the barn door below slid open. The drumming of rain and Fiducius’ prattling of Iolaus corrupting his best student were deafening to ears that had grown used to accelerated breaths and soft whispers. 

“(Y/N), are you in here? With that Iolaus?” Fiducius called.

Her eyes blew wide, wordlessly begging Iolaus for advice. “Um, yes! Up in the loft?”

Iolaus holding his head in his hands told her she’d given the wrong answer. She slapped his shoulder. The rungs of the loft’s ladder squeaked and Fiducius’ head popped into view.

“What are you doing up here? You should be in class!” he said.

“Is it that time already?” Iolaus asked. He shut his mouth when (Y/N) pinched him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I lost track of time. We were only trying to get some studying in before breakfast.”

Their teacher’s nose wrinkled. “Studying?”

“Yes. I’ve been helping Iolaus with his classwork in the mornings and this is the best place to go. It’s… quiet.”

“And!” Hercules added from below the loft. “And with all the rain this morning, you had no idea what time it was because-”

“Because there was no sun,” Fiducius finished. “I see.” His eyes narrowed in on Iolaus’ strategically covered lap. “What is that scroll you have there?”

Iolaus shifted on the bale of hay, moving as far from (Y/N) as possible in the small space. He inspected the scroll, wondering if it could give him any answers for this type of exam. “Poetry, sir. (Y/N)’s been teaching me about… _Anna-cree-on_ …”

“Anacreon,” she corrected.

“Yeah. His poetry. From across the sea.”

Fiducius was not impressed. “Odd thing to study since we’ve never covered modern works in class.”

A noise caught in Iolaus’ throat. He looked to (Y/N) for help. 

“Iolaus asked for it,” she said. “He enjoys poetry.”

Another suspicious hum traveled across the loft. “Come down here now, please. I will escort _all of you_ to class this instant.” Then his head fell as he descended the ladder. 

Before (Y/N) could rise from her seat to follow, Iolaus pulled her into one last kiss. Though it was against her nature, she could have defied all orders to steal another, but Iolaus only smiled at her and stood, leading her to the edge of the loft.

He climbed down the ladder first, ignoring (Y/N)’s mumblings of “I don’t need help” and “I’ve fought off gods, I can handle a shaky ladder.” Before her foot could touch the ground, he grabbed her hips and pulled her out of the barn, clear from Fiducius’ view.

“You didn’t get your hour of reading,” he said.

She shrugged. “I think I got something just as good.”

They parted as Fiducius emerged from the barn and led the way to the main building of the academy, thanking the gods for stopping the rain and mumbling about students turning into muddy hogs to be slopped. He was easily ignored by the couple behind him twisting together like vines of ivy.

(Y/N) looked up to the sky as if watching the dark, rumbling clouds move on to the next village. Truthfully, she was leaning into the arm Iolaus was holding around her and looking into the summer sky of her love, all clear blue eyes and curls like golden rays of sun.


End file.
